Relic
by ClassyMuse
Summary: Begins between sessions 2 and 3, and then after session 25. You're not the only one with a past of violence and death. You're not the only one who lost someone important to you. And you sure as hell are not the only one to lose hope.
1. Part I: Chapter 1 Lonely Boy

It had been two weeks since they had a lead. Small fries, hackers, big money bounty heads, nothing. Time meant money, which they were losing more and more. Jet knew they were burning fuel by being at the ready, but now it was getting pointless. Both his and Spike's monoships were in need of overhauls and he just didn't have the parts to do so. There were tools needed to go into the deepest parts of the engines to fix and neither of them were small enough to fit. Don't get them started on the food problem. A few weeks ago it would only cause some mild tension, but with the addition of Ein to the crew, mild would be putting it lightly. Try passive aggressive. Now they were getting low on cigarettes. Things were going to get bad really fast if they didn't catch any collars.

He had one option, and since it was his ship, Spike was going to have to deal with it. He knew Olympia, an asteroid colony just barely settled in the last ten years, had an incredible petty theft and minor felony rate. It was a safe haven for the small fries because the established law wasn't what you would call established. He remembered hearing and scoffing at the high ISSP turn-around rate of cops. At this point it was just used as training grounds, which meant those precincts were next to useless. Jet made the decision and set coordinates for Olympia. At the rate they were going they would be there in six hours.

Spike on the other hand was asleep, as per the usual, on the couch in the commons. Nothing out of the ordinary except for Ein licking the bottom of his shoes. He slept like the dead, anywhere, anytime, but lately, with the lack of food and action, he could easily wake. He jolted awake when he felt the ship lurch and groan with new movement. "At long last," he sighed.

He made his way to the central control where Jet was sitting, watching the stars pass. "Finally got a lead?" he asked.

Jet nodded, "A few dozen. We are going to be busy for a while."

Spike perked up, "Seriously, thank god. Where are we heading?"

"Olympia."

And then came the disappointment fused with frustration, "Fuck, why? Might as well head to Earth if we are going there. It's just about as profitable."

"Do I need to remind you that what we do also costs money or did you completely forget that _your_ ship is out of commission. Can't catch the big fish until you have the means to chase them down."

"Small fries aren't worth the effort," he grumbled.

"They're worth food, fuel, and parts. We're burning more fuel wasting time waiting for leads and both our ships need work done."

Spike couldn't argue. It's not like you can catch anyone when you are floating around space stranded. Lady Luck had a twisted sense of humor and a way to make men desperate enough to chase down their scum equivalents. "Fine, how long until we get there?" he asked in defeat.

/

Each new twenty-four hours started the same. Wake up from a nightmare to a dog licking her face, full weight on top of her to keep from bolting out of bed and using the gun in her bedstand against the invisible enemy on her ship. There is proof on the walls adjacent to the door. Her Great Dane whined and nudged her arm up, time to wake up. She obliged and she fed the grey dog, Junior, first and foremost in the galley of her space skipper. Never one for silence she slapped the side of the ancient stereo system she found on earth to fill the ship with music. Music shuffle by force. Today she greeted the new twenty-four hours with an old MP3 from The Black Keys. Music from Earth was the best, she would argue. It was the music she grew up hearing. Nothing new ever came back to Earth which essentially left the planet stuck in time.

Nightmares always left her sweaty in the morning which lead to the regimented schedule. Feed the dog, turn on the tunes, work out to some old programs also found in the ruins of Earth, eat, shower, pick and choose her bounties to chase, and check her bank accounts for the veterans benefits and bounty pay. Repeat every twenty-four hours while passing and collecting relics of Earth. Music, movies, books, the occasional piece of art, and engine parts adorned her walls along with the few pictures she had. They were of places to go and her old regiment buddies gone too soon or dropped of the face of the universe.

Lather, rinse, repeat. It was that way for as long as she could remember. The orphanage on Earth that she grew up in had schedules to maintain its establishment and control the chaos of kids from the ages of infancy to eighteen. Joining the military made it seem like there was no other way to live. The only thing that changed was the context. She lived for the day. She lived to look for people, good and bad. Regimens were all she had, at least for now.

There was one person she had been spending years looking for, and his name was Johnny B. Goode. A funny name, but that was what he came with when he showed up to the orphanage at the age of four to her five. The place was a revolving door, no need to get attached, but they were. They had a secret collection of things they found in their free time on earth's rocky and waterlogged landscape of what used to be New Orleans. They liked music and movies the most and found an old store that wasn't looted to claim as their own hideout. It only made sense for them to reach for the stars when they turned into angsty teenagers who were more aware of their status. They would leave Earth one day and head to Mars or Venus, no plan in mind except to get off the rock they were on.

The only way out was to have money or join the military. They enlisted together on the day of his eighteenth birthday and out of luck they managed to stay together from training camps to ranks. They became rangers. All it took was one firefight in some far off-world urban jungle to pull them apart. It was supposed to be a rescue mission of POWs and civilians, but anything that could've gone wrong did. Hence the nightmares. It scarred her literally and figuratively. Good people, her people, died. Johnny was MIA. After the incident she was dropped off back on Earth with promise of full wounded warrior benefits. She took what she could and threw herself into finding her friend, her little brother so to speak.

No one could find him though. She combed through the ranks to get intel and found nothing. No trace of him. She waited on Earth for two years for him to return, but after two years the military declared the MIA dead. She didn't believe it. She stayed and lived in their secret place waiting for him for a few more months. He's not dead, she kept saying. The lifetime pay was more than enough for one person to live on, even more when you get wounded on duty. She bought her space skipper, which she named affectionately Orleans, from an old drifter and took to the stars. Maybe he was out there, waiting for her. After catching two bounty heads she was convinced to buy a motorcycle on Mars to make ground travel less of an exhausting pain in the ass.

As the three years passed, there was no sign of him. She never gave up. She bought a monoship called Bobcat to make planetary scouting easier. It was there she realized that even the best lifetime benefits couldn't pay for her search and then there was the part that the training to search and destroy from her active duty days that wouldn't leave her alone. Bounty hunting seemed like a decent way to go to scratch that itch for action. Kill two birds with one stone, as the Mother Superior once said.

She had no desire to chase the big bounties, for everyone's safety. Old habits die hard and those old habits she picked up in training and in the field made her deadly. The small bounties were cheap thrills, just enough to take the edge off. In the last two years the information and lack of leads slowed and thus so did her search of Johnny. She learned to accept his absence and to move on, but there was that little sliver of hope that they would find each other.

This was the life for Annali Willis, veteran of the War on Titan, Earthling, and small-time bounty hunter. Not even worth a blip on the radar. Not at the age of twenty-nine.

It was hour eighteen and she decided on a whim to land on Olympia seeing that she could catch a few bad guys to replenish her food rations. Everything was cheap there including the docking fees. Junior stepped beside her and barked the change of direction. She scratched her companion behind his ears, "It's just for a week, boy. A little gravity and fresh air will do us some good."


	2. Chapter 2 Money

"A young and dumb ISSP recruit gave me a few details on these four guys. They always move together so once you find one, they'll follow." Jet rattled on about the four bounty heads he dug up when they landed and docked on Olympia.

Spike lit up a smoke, "Okay, which one is worth more?"

"Not much by themselves which is why you better catch them all."

"Why do I feel like I have heard that before?"

Jet groaned, not having patience for his partner's quips. "Anyway, they frequent two watering holes, O'Doneley's and Sigma. Their bounty has been posted for over two months and if they're as dumb as they are, moving around together, they won't be heavily armed. These sort of guys let their guard down too often."

"What are they in for?"

"Money laundering."

"No wonder they're on clearance," he sighed. "After I bag these guys what do you need me to get in town?"

Jet handed him a piece of paper, "Here are the parts I need for your ship and then grab some grub to get started."

Spike ran through the list of parts. Oil and fuels made sense, jump-start rods for the jet engines also a go figure… "A reacher? You need a reacher to fix Swordfish? What sort of deep engine shit are you doing?"

Jet grumbled, "Look, I don't see you crawling through your own hull to figure out why the engine cut out on Saturn or that one time you got stuck out of Jupiter's orbit. Quit your griping and just grab it on your way back."

Spike tucked the list in his pocket and made his way out of the hangar and to the warf. The destination was six blocks from there. He would be in and out, cash in and cash out. He just wished it was a little more interesting than that.

/

She paid her docking fees and locked up her ship leaving Junior behind. "Good boy, and remember, bite first," she cooed. Of all her finds since leaving Earth the dog was the best. She swung her leg over her bike and motored off into town, almost running over some green haired dude walking in the middle of the causeway. "Move, you idiot!" He flipped her off, but she shrugged it off. Just another day.

The details she found on the four bounty heads were simple, so simple Annali would be back by the afternoon, even with a quick stop at an autoshop to pick up parts tune up her bike. Ducati parts were not easy to find, but there was always that one place on some asteroid that had what she needed. She hit up the first bar, Sigma, based off a tip on the database. Nothing to speak of there. It was one of the few places in the pub block that wasn't open before noon. O'Doneley's was quiet little place before the lunch hour, for four bounty heads to be in there was to hide in plain sight. ISSP trainees would overthink it and miss them entirely, but the ranger regiment taught her better. Annali parked her bike outside of the establishment and made her way through the heavy swinging doors. The atmosphere was exactly what she expected, lonely and pathetic. Smoke filled the air as well as cheap whiskey and beer. She spotted the four bounties huddled in the far corner, relaxed and chuckling amongst themselves. The only wildcard was the sight of a green haired loner at the bar in a tacky blue jazz suit.

While she was confident in her shooting game, the last thing she needed was to worry about a civilian getting stuck in the crossfire.

/

Spike recognized her from the causeway where she almost hit him. You can't miss the casual army get-up in a colony of near-lawlessness. Also, a lot of the women on the colony were hookers. She was a pretty sight if heavy boots and leather jackets were your thing.

Oh great, competition, he thought. The brunette strode up to the bar a few stools away and ordered her drink, which he noticed was Maker's Mark. That was an old Earth drink.

She wasn't going to make it easy if he played fair, and god, he needed the cash. Spike was no stranger to playing a con with the ladies, but only for big bounties, and right now it just made him seem desperate. She was about to pull out cash when he spoke up, "Hey, put that on my tab."

She glanced over and raised an eyebrow in skepticism, "Thanks but no thanks."

"It's the least I can do for being in your way."

She smirked, "Oh yeah, your that weirdo who was taking up the whole causeway."

He got up and moved closer, to get more acquainted with her and move her out of the place, "And you're the madwoman on a motorcycle who doesn't yield to pedestrians."

She didn't falter when she took her drink, which meant that she was a woman who couldn't be bargained with. Great. "You got me there, but you could be more self-aware and not ignore a roaring engine."

"I must have been daydreaming, I guess."

She took another drink, "You make a terrible flirt, you know that?"

"What makes you think I am flirting?" he asked coolly.

"You made your move pretty fast. You're looking for action. Frankly, I am not interested in you."

He nodded, "True, but there isn't a whole of choices here."

"And what gives you any indication that I am searching for a fleeting companion?" she snarked. It was obvious she was getting annoyed by his presence. Maybe he could annoy her out?

"Touche, so at least let me buy you a drink and send you on your way."

She glanced around and pulled out her gun, a ruger, and placed in front of him. Well, she does mean business, he thought. Possibly a syndicate hitgirl who was sent to track him down after all these years.

She hunched over and whispered, "I would appreciate it if you left quietly. Hell, I'll pay your tab. I'm here on business and what I do, well, I don't like civilian casualties. I suggest you leave now."

Spike kept his cool. She really was competition. She was serious. Too bad, he was serious too.

/

Annali was disappointed when he didn't move after she gave him her ultimatum. She finished her drink, feeling the burn in her throat and the fluid hit the bottom of her stomach like an anvil. She picked up the ruger, "Fine, but you have been warned."

It was like the air changed then. Annali was aware of four different guns trained on their backs. The bartender shrunk behind the bar. The guy in the cheap suit next to her didn't freak out but instead pulled out his gun.

She huffed sarcastically, "Alright boys, we'll be leaving so you can continue to conduct your meeting here." Annali diverted and shoved Mister Cheap Suit down to the ground. She made her shots with her empty shot glass at one of the guys as a distraction, and then took her gun to shoot at two of the guys, only injuring them and stunning them to the ground. The other two proved more elusive and they began to fire as well.

It was about to be a full-fledged firefight. Another day of thrills.

/

Bullets fired, but not in a chaotic fashion that you would see in the movies. Each fire was deliberate. Spike had very little ammo to begin with, especially since he wasn't planning on using a bar brawl to take out the bounty heads. Each fire had to count, but he kept track of each one around him. The lady's ruger didn't go off much, which could mean she was just as skilled as he was or dead. Most of the shots were coming from the one guy she hadn't put down. Spike made the bar his fort and waited out the shit storm of gunfire, only getting once or twice to make his shot to get the guy down. Nothing crazy, he wasn't in the mood.

He didn't see his competition in the bar. After a few more minutes the gunfire ceased leaving the faint sound of sirens in the distance outside. Easy cash, he thought. He got up and took stock of the establishment, which looked like a warzone. "Jet is gonna kill me," he sighed.

Spike found the guy who was taking aim at him only moments ago and was pleased to see that he was only unconscious and nowhere near death. "Even alive you're not worth much. Hundred thousand woolongs really."

Just as he was about to cuff him he heard the sound of handcuffs clicking shut in the far corner.

"Hey!" he yelled accusingly. He looked over and saw the lady collecting the three other guys and shoving them onto the floor. "I was here first, they're mine."

She chuckled, "They don't _assign_ bounties, I got these guys fair and square. First come and first serve."

"I was here first."

"Well you didn't make _that_ first move. You're not exactly an assertive cowboy, are you?"

"If you're so sure of yourself why are you after four money launderers?"

"If you're so good, why are _you_ after them?"

Spike didn't fight this one. She already took his pride down a few more pegs from where he already was. Nothing he said got her to falter. She was like a thick stone fortress.

The police showed up, he got paid for his one guy and she got paid for her three. The smug look on her face was just her showing off.

God, did he hate women with attitude.

/ / /

Jet wasn't exactly pleased with how the day was going. He did what he could to tune and fix whatever he could on his comrade's monoracer. He really needed the reacher, but waiting for it was wasting time. He attempted to make one of out other tools he had lying around, but nothing was going to get the fine and articulate work done without creating more problems. A reacher was essentially a mechanic's kind of robot; it made pulling any engine apart a thing of the past and cut down on time. To pull apart the engine would mean more time would be wasted just getting to the problem. The next best option was the physically crawl into the engine, but neither of them were small enough to do so.

He was also not pleased to see Spike walking into the Bebop that afternoon with very little in his hands, just a small bag of groceries really. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

Spike shrugged, "It didn't go as well as I hoped."

"Spill it," Jet growled. "They were four low-level thugs and you couldn't even catch them?"

"Oh I got one. And all I got was a fifty thousand for him."

Jet groaned, "They were each worth one hundred thousand."

"The end justifies the means."

"Not if the means lost cash."

Spike had nothing to say to that so he started to walk past the wreckage that was his ship to bring in their soon-to-be short-lived food rations. Jet was right, but at the rate they were going, how long was it going to be before they could go catch the big fish? Small fries bored him, and he wondered if one could be bored to death. Regardless, Jet was going to send him out again to catch another bounty after he unloaded.

He didn't hear the faint sound of a motorcycle outside pulling in at the dock next to them.


	3. Chapter 3 Army

Olympia was not what anyone would call a vacation destination, but the climate would argue otherwise, hence why Jet had both their monoships on the deck. It was just too nice outside to stay in, especially after being cooped up in the Bebop for two weeks. He had sent Spike out for a hundred thousand head, which was a nice price, but he accounted for damages as far as his partner was concerned. "Ends justify the means, my ass," he grumbled.

The Swordfish was giving him the most problems, mostly because he didn't have a reacher, but he was working and building a whole new tool out of some scraps just to get a feel for the problem was. The sooner this thing got off the ground, the better.

Ein watched from afar, which Jet appreciated. As much as he was reluctant to take in a dog, it was nice to have another living thing listen to his voice of reason. Out of nowhere the corgi started barking toward the ship starboard of them. Jet was also distracted by the loud music coming from the same ship. He looked over and saw Ein run over, and Jet followed realizing it was because of another dog. The last thing he needed was a dogfight. "Hey, you mutt, get back here!"

Ein caught sight of the Great Dane and wouldn't slow down, but the larger dog didn't move from his laying position next to a Ducati. For that, Jet was grateful as he boarded the main deck. "Knock it off, Ein." The large dog on the other hand, got up and growled at Jet. "Easy, boy."

"Junior, down!" came a voice. It was a woman, wearing a mechanic's suit, sleeves tied around her waist, only leaving her in a black crop top. The Dane sat, but the hair on his back was still standing.

Jet didn't falter, "Sorry about that, you'd think he never seen another canine before."

She only shrugged, "No worries." Then they parted.

The music didn't quiet down. For the next hour they both could hear each other cursing over their respective engines on top of the old Earth rock tunes that were blasting from his neighbor. Jet had finished with his Hammerhead but couldn't figure out what to do about the hot pink racer.

Spike had yet to return from his quick collar, which was holding him up.

Jet was snapped out of his frustrations when he heard a crash from the neighboring vessel, followed by a slew of curses in both English and something else he didn't recognize. That's when he got an idea.

He didn't like to ask for favors, especially when he didn't know how he could pay them back, but he had to try. She looked small enough to fit into the hull. He huffed and made his way to Orleans.

/ / /

Annali was getting pissed off with her bike more than she would later admit. The parts place she had called before landing on Olympia promised her that her parts would be in, only to find out that they were for Harley's. Having previously paid them off, she took them with a few choice creole curses and figured she could retrofit them to work. While she had decent mechanical expertise she wasn't skilled in the art of improvising. Never had to in the military, they had their shit together there.

She never worked with Harley parts before which meant frustrations were high. She spent a good portion of the day cursing, throwing things, and wishing she had bought a Harley instead. The more pissed she got the louder the music got. Good ole' White Stripes. Screw anyone else on the docks that didn't like it.

She went inside for a moment and made herself a drink of cheap whiskey. That always helped her calm down.

Annali took the bottle and glass out onto the deck only to be greeted by Junior growling at the same guy with a metal arm from earlier. "Junior!" she scolded. The dog then turned and went inside. She turned her attention to the man standing in front of her, crossing her arms. "Can I help you?"

The man looked down at her bike, "You work on antiques?"

"It wasn't my intention. I'm just trying to stay mobile."

"You got the wrong parts."

"No shit. I'm trying to retrofit."

"And how is that going?"

Annali eyed him suspiciously, "So what do you want?"

Jet kept his cool, "Who said I want anything?"

Annali walked up to him and sat down by her bike, "The only time a man shows up on my ship is if they are a bounty head or a guy trying to 'help' a damsel-in-distress. You haven't been on my radar so you're probably here to compensate."

Jet was miffed at the accusation, "You don't even know me."

"What's to know? I'm not going to be here long and neither are you, so what's the point about worrying?"

"Well aren't you the cynic. But truth be told, I was hoping we could do a trade."

Annali just wanted him off her ship, "I would think you could tell I'm not a hooker."

"Not even remotely what I meant. I need an extra set of hands on one of my ships."

She relaxed and took a drink, "You should have started off by saying that, now I feel like an asshole."

/ / /

The first things he really noticed about her was her tattoo across her shoulder under the razor-back straps of her top. It was simple, it was like a military branding they only did and issued to certain ranks. It was a lion outstretched for the kill with numbers and letters under the claws. Jet made small talk on the walk over to Bebop, "So where did you serve?"

"Did a quick tour on Titan, but mostly scouting wherever they sent my company."

"A ranger, go figure."

"So?"

"I used to be ISSP. Got a lot of recruits when you all got done serving, but never had a ranger when I was there. You people just aren't cut out for desk work, huh?"

"Staying in one place just isn't my style, not after everything. That kind of training can screw with your head," she joked and she jumped on deck, making her way to the pink racer. "So what's the story on this thing?"

Jet sighed, "What isn't? Engine stalled just outside Jupiter two weeks ago. It's something deep in the engine hull, but-"

"You don't have a reacher," she finished, eyeing the ship more closely. "Yeah, I don't either, and that thing is an expensive. Then again it would cost more time to take this thing apart."

"Exactly."

He watched her walk around the front hull.

"Where's the hatch at?" she asked.

Jet opened it up and she took a look inside. "That's a tight squeeze, even for me."

"Think you can fit?"

"Yeah, but let's first discuss terms on this trade. I go in there, you retrofit those Harley parts."

"Done," he agreed.

She untied the sleeves and zipped up the suit, pulling out a small penlight from her pocket, "Alright, give me a boost up."

/ / /

It was early evening when Spike returned to the Bebop, reacher in hand, and a couple thousand woolongs in his pocket. A decent start, but it took a hit on his ego. He saw that the Swordfish was back in the open hangar, which meant that either Jet gave up or got it fixed. He was hoping for the first or else he just spent a whole lot of cash for nothing but a spare tool. On deck, Jet wasn't alone. There was a small motorcycle, a large dog, and a skinny kid with long hair and a big ass tattoo on their back, but his partner was laughing. Both were sitting on lawn chairs with a bottle between them. "Well, well, Jet made a friend."

He ambled on deck but stopped when heard their visitor's voice. "So there we were, bored and waiting…"

Spike knew that voice; it was the same one that stole a couple bounties from him earlier in the morning. "You have got to be kidding," he grumbled.

She continued to babble as he got closer, "It was three days in some jungle valley before we heard anything so this guy in my company shows us how to weave with the tall grass so we can make a better shelter than what we had. Next thing you know we are making grass clothes and dressing up in drag to entertain ourselves."

Jet let out a laugh so loud and boisterous, which was strange for Spike. He had never heard him laugh like that ever.

Spike sauntered up behind them, "Having a party?"

Jet turned, sunglasses on with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, "Hey, you're finally back. Good news your ship is ready to go."

Spike sighed, "So I bought an expensive ass tool for nothing."

"Knowing you, we'll need it later anyway."

The person in question turned to face him, smile quickly fading into a scowl and pointing a thumb at Spike, "This guy's your partner?"

Jet nodded. "Yeah, and?"

Annali stood up and grabbed her nearly empty bottle of whiskey, "Well, this has been sufficiently awkward." She made her way off the deck, walking her beside her bike, and Junior followed. "Thanks for the help on those parts, Jet," she said as she waved back. "Later, cowboys."

Jet smiled then looked up at his partner, who still looked pissed. "What got your panties in a twist, she helped fix your ship."

"Remember those bounty heads you sent for me this morning?"

"Yeah, what about them?" Jet put the two and two together. "Oh, she's the one who beat ya to it."

"More like she cheated," he bit back. "Anyway what was up with the engine?"

Jet tossed his partner the culprit. Spike caught it revealing a small bullet. "You're kidding me."

Jet shrugged, folding up the chair, "It was lodged in the hull. Alone it wouldn't have meant anything, but with the right angle on a turn it pattered around your mainframe's circuit board, which is why it was cutting out."

"And you had her crawl up into the engine."

"Wasting time waiting on you meant wasting time on catching the bigger fish. She was having issues retrofitting parts for her bike so we traded. I'd say it was a fair trade."

"Didn't it occur to you that she could be competition?" Spike asked incredulously.

"Didn't know and didn't care. Now looking back, she's ex-military so no wonder she kicked your ass."


	4. Chapter 4 Marked Man

The following morning Spike was jerked awake from the couch.

"Get your ass up," Jet said. "Bob dropped us a hit that hasn't been posted yet. We got first dibs."

Spike groaned and sat up, "How much?"

"Fifteen million."

Spike perked up, "Music to my ears. What'd you get?"

Jet pulled up the profile that his old friend sent him on the computer. "This guy has been linked to several syndicate hits. No alliance to speak of so he's a contract killer."

Spike looked closer, "Yeah, I think I have seen him once before in passing." The guy was familiar enough, at least from his time in the syndicate. The bounty head was too normal looking to be questioned about any illegal activity. He remembered when they signed him on for a paid hit on a White Tiger dealer, that he showed up in Dockers and a blue polo. He wasn't a man that said much. Cold and calculated, but that was just the way everyone was in that moment. But this guy was cold enough to be dead inside. Spike wasn't going to tell Jet that.

Charles Camden

'Ricochet'

6'1, 186 lbs

Last Seen: Tijuana

"He's wanted for at least a dozen counts of murder and for questioning on half of those," Jet continued. "They called him Ricochet due to his ability to shoot from anywhere and use the surrounding area to make the shot while being perfectly hidden."

Spike lit up a smoke, "So we are going after a guy that no one could see commit the crime, but the ISSP is sure it's him?"

"Another case of a dumb and young recruit making stupid mistakes," Jet countered. "Anyway, he's been spotted on random asteroids for the last month plus tips that he's been on Olympia on in the last two weeks."

"Think he's still here?"

"Even with a two week absence it's enough to get more information and more leads to his location."

Spike shrugged, "Fair enough. Where do you want to get started?"

/ / /

Annali reread the email she had received from one of her own ISSP connections from Venus.

 _Fmr. Lut. Annali Willis,_

 _He's been spotted, but under a different name. Last seen on Olympia two weeks ago, but my instinct says he's still there. I'm attaching the rap sheet._

 _Burn after reading for both your sake and my job,_

 _Det. Henry Younge_

She opened the attachment and read everything word for word, analyzing down to every point of view. The intel wasn't going to be released for another day which gave her the leg up on all the other bounty hunters, including her neighbors. The bounty didn't matter, but the chase did. It was going to be the most important chase of her life.

Annali locked up and rode back into the city limits. She changed up her look entirely to something more relaxed, jeans and red long sleeve shirt. She dusted off an old hat that she only wore when she was on Earth, black adorned with a gold fleur-de-lis. She hadn't worn it in so long, but now it seemed just right to have something familiar.

This was a person she knew, but she was different now. They both were, and the tidbits of information she was getting from bars to markets was proving that they wouldn't recognize each other. Her guy was a trained marksmen, well known in the criminal underbelly, but was hiding in plain sight when not making targets. The guy was the least suspicious looking guy which was why everyone passed over him for the last few years. That and being a contract killer gave him certain protections.

The best tip she got was that he was last seen earlier that day at a hole-in-the-wall bar getting an Irish coffee. She went to that establishment and discovered that he was a regular every other week and wasn't one for small talk. The bartender said it was like he was off in another world rather than the one he was in, and that other world had to be a horrible place. Annali thanked the bartender and started back for the street.

The day otherwise was projecting to be fruitless. The only upside was catching a measly bounty on her way back. In all seriousness she picked up the tiny man straight up from his chair at a café and tied him to the back of her bike. It was too easy, almost comical, but that was fuel for all the riding around she had been doing on Olympia.

The police headquarters, as per the usual on training grounds, was in the midst of their daily chaos. Annali dumped him off in a cell and took her number to wait in line at the reward kiosk. Slow going once again, but it wasn't like she had anything else to do until she had a solid lead. Her person was close, and she kept her eyes open, but nothing.

"Maybe he took off?" she mumbled. Oh, well it was a lead. She figured at this point it would be time take off for Mars, where the syndicates ruled supreme and where Ricochet had been to find work. First things first though, lunch at a pub. The only good one that managed to follow basic health and ethics laws was a small joint at the end of the causeway called Phillies, mostly known for the fact that they allowed smoking. Beer and a burger was all that she needed.

It was a quiet afternoon in the establishment and she grabbed a seat next to the front window, watching the dark rainclouds threatening to arrive from the west a few miles away. Shortly after sitting down and ordering her beer she caught sight of her newfound, green-haired annoyance.

/ / /

Spike entered with a few hundred woolongs in his pocket. He had no luck finding any details on Ricochet, but a handful of small fries along the way landed him some extra cash to buy him and Jet a decent meal that had real meat. He knew Phillies would cook to go, but he didn't know or expect that she would be there.

He knew it wasn't fair to be put off by her presence, especially if he didn't even know her name, but there was something about her attitude and bravado to steal his bounties yesterday that put a sour taste in his mouth when he saw her.

Alas, Spike didn't get mad, he got even.

He paid for his order and took a seat across from his competitor.

/ / /

Annali looked up from her beer and watched him take his place facing her. She shouldn't have been shocked, but she thought she was done establishing that she had no time for nonsense yesterday. She didn't care who this guy was. His partner Jet seemed alright, but this guy…. "Can I help you?" she asked sarcastically.

Spike smirked, "What, can't a guy relax and sit down?"

Annali snorted, "Plenty of seats in the house, but you choose mine."

"I like conversation."

She rolled her eyes and smirked, "Last time you had a conversation with me I 'stole' your bounty heads. I figured you would have learned after that."

He shrugged, "Maybe I'm just to hardheaded."

Annali took another drink and decided there was no use fighting with words or fists with this guy in front of her. She held out her hand to him, "I don't' think we have properly met."

Spike took the hint and dropped his guard momentarily. Shaking hands meant friendly competition.

"Annali Willis. I run Orleans next to you in the marina."

"Spike."

She raised an eyebrow to him, "That's it, 'Spike'?"

"That's all there is to it?"

"Whatever," he sighed, stretching, feeling the alcohol take it's affect. "So how did you get into bounty hunting?"

Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it between his lips, "No reason, really. Just needed something exciting to do?"

"Office work not appealing to you, huh."

"You can say that. And you? Ex-military, I heard, pays well plus the promise of honest work after discharge."

"I was a ranger, so sitting around in one place doesn't suit me well."

"Makes sense, you got some serious moves."

"All part of the training, my friend. You get that far all it makes you is a weapon with flesh," she replied nonchalantly.

Spike huffed, "Yeah, I hear that."

She polished off her beer, "And what is that meant to imply, Mister Spike?"

He didn't respond, which was another way of annoying him annoying her. He had to get one jab in before his food was ready.

He looked our the window and noticed the rain clouds coming in, but he also noticed a familiar face.

It was the bounty he was after. Same look that he saw years ago: red button-up shirt, dockers, business casual. If he knew Annali well enough as he did in those few minutes, he assumed she knew about Ricochet. He had to get out of there to follow him, but didn't want to make a scene and lose to her, friendly or not. So he eased out of his seat, claiming he was going to check on his order, staying cool, but sneaking out the door.

/ / /

Annali was staring out the window when she saw him pass. She contained her shock and awe with ease. Physically he was the same person she had lost in that firefight, but she could sense that he wasn't there in his mind. He gave off an aura of cold and calculating. That wasn't who Johnny was. Johnny was a cocky kid, but he was warm and could make a friend with a tree.

Spike took off casually just in time to let her get out of there. She made her way around to the back and made her way to Johnny's direction. He was dressed too nice for her comfort, like one of the rich kids that would be running around Mars acting like they owned everything. She hated those kids, but maybe that was the poor orphan angst that still lingered.

Annali stayed within the shadows, following the red shirt. The rain began to fall in a light mist forcing many to abandon the street. She followed behind a few dozen feet, but stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of Spike opposite of her. "You have to be fucking kidding," she growled. It would appear that Spike didn't' notice her, so she kept it that way. She hung back a little further, instead watching Spike. He was a bounty hunter too, but he had bravado, and wouldn't think twice about taking him out.

Annali just wanted to save him.

/ / /

Spike followed Ricochet casually, even through the rain. The quieter the streets got, the closer he went. He was worth a nice sum and it would be cool to catch someone of a higher caliber of crime…for once. The rain picked up and they both moseyed through a maze of allies.

Eventually Spike grew tired of following this guy around and pulled out his gun the moment there was no sight of civilians. "You can put your hands up now, Charles Camden. Or do you prefer Ricochet?"

The bounty head turned around and stared him down, not drawing any weapons, but not showing any sign of him about to run. "I know I have seen you before, but if you want a hit, you know my contract is expired. I don't do your buddy's dirty work."

"In case you didn't hear, you have a hefty bounty on your head. All you had to do was kill the right people and all it took was a squealer."

Ricochet smirked, "I knew I shouldn't have signed for a job with a Cobra."

Spike smirked, but his Jericho didn't waver. "Why don't you shoot then?"

"Why haven't you?"

"I like to keep it even, but in this case, I kill you and I lose the cash."

"Isn't bounty hunting a bit of a step down from being a Red Dragon?" Ricochet asked coolly.

Spike didn't waver, although mentioning the syndicate was one of two things to rattle his nerves. He didn't say anything, but fingered the trigger. There was no legal wording about bringing in a bounty with a bullet in his knee cap. Ricochet didn't move, as if he was daring his adversary.

Spike had barely pulled the trigger when he felt his body slammed sideways, causing the bullet to fire at a window.

Now he was pissed.

/ / /

Annali followed them both to the alley, but watched from a corned and listened. Spike was calling him Ricochet, there was talk about syndicates and contract, and Spike meaning to take him in. None of that was a surprise, but what had her shaken was Ricochet's, or rather Johnny's, voice. She had never heard him talk like this. He was colder now, and the timbre was darker. This wasn't the same person, it couldn't be, she hoped, yet there he was in the flesh after all these years.

Even through the rain she heard the clicks of a trigger. Johnny wasn't armed. "No," she breathed. She turned from the corner and ran, slamming Spike out of his stance causing a misfired into a window. They both fell onto the wet pavement and when she looked up from Spike, Johnny had disappeared, as if he was never there.

She froze where she was kneeling. Annali couldn't fathom why he ran. Didn't he see her? Didn't he remember? She was overcome with sadness, confusion, and relief all at the same time. She didn't even hear Spike berating her. She didn't even register that he was there until he was shaking her by the collar of her jacket against the wall.


	5. Chapter 5 Black Water

"What the hell was that about?! Answer me!" he shouted in her face. It was like she was in a trance, not in this world. He grabbed her by the collar of her leather jacket and pulled her up, forcing her against a brick wall. At that moment it was like she was back in reality. At that moment he really saw her.

He knew Annali was ex-military, but he never thought about what that really meant. Spike got a good look in her suddenly angry eyes. Those brown eyes had to have seen things that he could only imagine, which was really saying something considering his own past. The thing that threw him off was being literally thrown off from her. He turned away from her and groaned, "Great, I'm soaked and I lost him."

Annali didn't move. Now she was looking down that alley with a mixed look on her face of anger and confusion. He got the hint. "You knew him," he stated.

"Yes," she replied quietly.

/ / /

They all gathered in Orleans a few hours later. Spike was no longer fuming and Jet was distracted by the relics of Earth that were on full display in Annali's common area. Junior was wary of Spike and watched all three from the entrance.

"Cut the cryptic shit, how do you know Ricochet?" Spike asked.

She shook her head, "I'm not even sure if we are looking for the same person."

Jet said nothing but pulled a framed picture from the top shelf, and handed it off to Spike, "Might want to insert a foot into your mouth, Spike."

Spike took the picture frame and looked at it. It was an old color Polaroid, a format that no one used. There were two people in the picture dressed in army greens, two heads with hats that were adorned with gold fleur-de-rits, like the one that Annali was wearing now to keep her dark hair restrained. The two people were smiling with arms across each other's shoulders. One of them he easily identified as a slightly younger Annali, and the other was a smiling man. He looked familiar enough, and then he realized it was Ricochet. "You fought alongside, Ricochet, huh?"

Annali slammed her fists against the coffee table between them all, "Stop calling him that!"

Jet stepped in. He was better at handling these quieter situations than his partner. Spike didn't have a lot of tact as far as he was concerned. "Annali, we just need understand what is going on here. Charles Camden has a bounty on his head and it will be posted for the public to see tomorrow. Obviously, forcing Spike to miss means that you need this guy alive and not for the cash on his head."

Annali shook her head, "His name isn't Charles Camden either, so stop calling him that."

"Then who is he?" Spike asked. "You know him better than we do."

She looked up at them both, feeling that she had no choice but to trust them. She never told anyone since that firefight what happened. "His name is Johnny B. Goode. Or at least it was. We grew up together on Earth, in an orphanage in New Orleans. Not much you can say about that. We joined the military to help us get off that fucking rock. We were all each other had throughout the whole thing and somehow became rangers together. We got pulled from Titan to do a rescue mission in some wreckage of a city and everything from there went to shit."

Spike and Jet listened, sympathizing.

She continued, seeing flashback with every blink of that fateful night, "I lost a lot of good people in my company that night." She got up and tugged the waistband of her jeans down revealing an ugly scar deep in her hips. "Took a hit there too. I lost consciousness from the blood loss among other things and woke up in a military hospital satellite a week later. They told me who died and that Johnny was missing." He pulled up her jeans and sat back down, head in her hand and elbows on her knees, trying to keep her composure.

"We can stop if you want," Jet said.

Annali shook her head, "No. I want to keep going. You are the only other people aside from the Monsignor back at my old orphanage that I told this to. Anyway, I looked for him and waited for him to come back. When a soldier from Earth goes missing for two years in the line of duty he is officially declared dead." She huffed, "Figures since no one cares about the people of Earth. 'Probably why they recruit there. We're just easy to dispense."

Spike spoke up, "You said that it _was_ Johnny. What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that it wasn't him. It's the same body, but a completely different person. Ricochet is cold, Johnny is warm. I thought he would see me, but it was like he was blind to me. I just hoped that-"

"He would come back to you," Jet finished. "You were hoping to be his trigger and bring him back." He sat next to Spike and continued, "The thing is though, he isn't. He's a contract killer, Annali. He's a wanted man. Something happened to him and you can't fix it. I know it's hard to see that after all these years, but you have to be realistic. His bounty is going to be posted tomorrow and there will be more people after him who won't be as kind as we are. The best thing you can do is put that hope aside and help us bring him in. We'll even split the bounty."

Spike didn't fight that. He knew what Jet was doing.

"I don't care about the money, " she said. "I just want him back. He is all I have left. We aren't even related, but he's my brother, my family. Do you understand that?"

Jet sighed, "More than you know. The best thing you can do for him is for us to turn him in. It's safer especially with his connections to several syndicates."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Annali was weighing the consequences and potential outcomes and couldn't come up with anything positive. Even if she could get Johnny back, she would be an accomplice and then Jet and Spike would be chasing after her. If she turned him in, she would never see him again and she would be alone. There was no hope for them.

She stood up and pulled her ruger out from her holster that was lying on the floor. "We go after him together," she stated. "But understand that I get to turn him in. You guys can keep the money. I just want to say goodbye, even if he doesn't see me."

/ / /

Jet was in the air while Spike and Annali were street level under the cover of the night. Chances are Johnny could be working on a hit and probably wouldn't think twice about taking out those two if they got in the way. It worked out this way to have an ex-cop watching the moves of an ex-mafia and military persons go after an active hit man. Three trained brains against one that was clearly washed gave them a slight advantage to the chase. The hunt? Not as much. At least the rain kept their stalking quiet. They picked up where they left off yesterday in the alley, comparing notes and clues, leading them to a more economically stable sector of Olympia. The next attempted hit had to be there. Power players in criminal underworlds preferred to maintain an above ground existence, which Spike could attest to.

Time was of the essence and the bounty was going to be posted at midnight. It was five minutes till the new day.

A few hours later they spotted him entering a residential high rise with a Halliburton. "He's armed," Spike said. Jet heard and flew farther away from what would be the scene. The plan was for him to park and wait until Johnny was caught and cuffed, then fly him in to the precinct. Spike and Annali were to follow and catch. The building was twenty-two stories high and they watched him take the elevator. Both of them took the emergency stairs at opposite ends of the building. They readied their guns as they went up eventually meeting at the nineteenth landing where the stairwell became one. "You got this?" Spike asked.

Annali nodded, "Let's do this."

Just as Spike turned to continue to climb, she kicked out his leg from under him, dropping him on the steps. She took off fast past him, leaving him behind. "Fucking, bitch!" he snared. He flipped on his comm, "Jet, she took off!"

"What the hell does that mean?" he replied.

"I mean, she's facing him alone. She dropped me and took off to the top."

"Then follow her, you idiot!"

Spike huffed and started climbing. Three flights later he came to the open door to the rooftop. It was raining harder now and there was Annali and Johnny facing each other at gunpoint. Johnny had an assault rifle pointed at her and she had her little ruger fixed on him. Spike aimed his Jericho at Johnny as well from behind her. He could see though that Annali's eyes were pleading.

The silence, even in the rain, was deafening. It was like they were in a different world. It was cinematic.

Out of nowhere was a small voice and an old song. It was coming from Annali. "Oh black water, keep on rollin'. Mississippi moon won't you keep on shinin' on me." She kept on singing that, but he didn't budge. It was her last chance to bring her friend back. Spike let her keep going. He would be able to stop her and grab the man with the bigger gun without getting killed as well.

"Well if it rains, I don't care, don't make no difference to me. Just take that streetcar that's goin' up town. Yeah, I'd like to hear some funky Dixie-"

Then the unthinkable happened. Ricochet's demeanor completely changed and he lowered his weapon. It was Johnny now and Annali's face changed. She kept on singing. "And dance some honky tonk."

Johnny was back and he stared at his pseudo sister wearily in shock. It was like he was seeing a ghost. "Nali?" he breathed.

She lowered her weapon and started toward him slowly. Spike kept his gun trained on the bounty, "Get back here, Annali," he commanded. "Something isn't right."

She didn't pay any attention to him. Johnny dropped the rifle and stepped forward as well.

A shot was fired and the two snapped out of their reunion trance. Spike wasn't the one who fired and threw himself on top of Annali. "Get down!"

She fought Spike, "No, wait!" She looked up and saw that Johnny was flat on the ground. "Oh god," now she was shaking. She fought hard and pulled herself from under him. She slid a few feet to her brother. "No, no, no, no," she mumbled.

There was a hole in Johnny's chest, but he was still awake. Blood was pooling and diluting itself into the rainwater that gathered on that rooftop. "Nali," he gasped. "God, it's you."

"Shh, please stay quiet. I'll get you help, I just need you to stay quiet." She was trying to stay calm, but inside she was frantic. Spike got up and scanned the area for whoever made the shot. He couldn't see anyone. He paged for Jet and asked if he could keep a lookout for the possible shooter. Until then, all he could do was watch. He knew there was no way out of this. There was no way he could survive. He kept his distance and let them have this moment. He knew it would kill her, and he didn't know why he cared, but there was something about this scene that struck a chord.

He could hear them though. He could hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay and him struggling to breath. There were sirens in the distance. There would be no pay-off today and right now it didn't matter.

"I haven't heard that song in years," Johnny whispered. He was getting weaker by the second. "Sing your part, like we did back home."

It was registering to Annali that this was the end. Now she was numb, holding his hand, but she started to sing quietly. "I'd like to hear some funky Dixieland, pretty mama gonna take me by the hand. By the hand."

"Honky tonk," he started.

"Take me by the hand."

"Pretty mama."

Gonna dance with your daddy," she finished.

And finally they were both in unison, "All night long."

Johnny's eyes did not close when he died. Annali didn't sob. She didn't do anything but freeze where she kneeled, bloodstains be damned.


	6. Chapter 6 Belief

Jet and Spike weren't released from the precinct until dawn. What should have lasted a few hours in processing and statements took seven. Damn rookies. It was very slow going from the moment the police and the coroner arrived to leaving the dilapidated police headquarters. Needless to say, there was no bounty to be had. Sure they needed cash, but it would have to wait another day. This last chase took all the energy they had from the moment Bob dropped the rap sheet on their laps.

For a moment, they both thought about Annali. They lost track of her when they put her in the back of a cruiser, no handcuffs. Jet figured they would keep her longer since she had a more intimate connection with the dead man.

When they arrived at the Bebop both of them collapsed in their respective sleeping arrangements and didn't wake until late in the afternoon.

It wasn't by choice either. There was noise coming from the outside. Spike sat up listening for a while. _There's a smell of stale fear that's reeking from our skins. The drinking never stops because the drinks absolve our sins._

He groaned knowing that it was coming from Orleans. He wasn't going to deal with that right now, probably not ever. That wasn't his cross to bear. He was in it for the cash, which he begrudgingly didn't get.

Jet was already on the scene in the common room with hot coffee, still looking like he hadn't slept much either. "Tunes wake you up?" he asked.

Jet sighed, blowing smoke into the air, "Among other things." Of course he meant Ein, who was waiting by their feet for his food. Everything had gone so fast in the last twenty-four hours they forgot about the corgi. "You don't suppose you could go next door and bum some kibble?"

"Why me?"

"Because you're standing and I fixed your ship."

"Last I checked, she fixed it."

"All the more reason you should go over there and thank her. Girl could use a little bit of positivity right now even though it might fall on deaf ears."

"Aw, Jet didn't know you cared about her."

"I don't, but the dog needs to eat."

/ / /

 _The faces all around me, they don't smile, they just crack. Waiting for our ship to come but our ship's not coming back. We do our time like pennies in a jar. What are we saving for?_

That song had been on a loop for two hours now. It was annoying. It was an old song from Earth, close to twenty years before the gate incident. He would bite his tongue though when he jumped on the Orleans deck. The hangar doors were open with only the large dog to guard it. The dog that was once suspicious of him let him pass by. Annali's Ducati was lying on the floor. He followed the source of the music to the common area that they were in not even twenty-four hours ago, but one could say it was longer. Nothing was like it was. Shelves of old knick-knacks, pieces of art, records, and books were all over the place and broken. The few pictures that he took notice of before had broken glass and frames. Spike got the picture.

Still, the dog had to eat. He looked around to find the ship's owner only to trip over her crossed legs.

Annali was sitting behind her couch, awake, looking worse for wear, and with half a bottle of Maker's Mark bourbon gone. Her clothes were still damp and her hands and knees were still stained red. It was a sad sight. "Hey, you okay?" he asked, trying to stay caual. She didn't register his existence until the blurred vision settled.

"What do you want?" she slurred,

"I actually came over to see if I could borrow some dog food from you since we are out."

She haphazardly pointed down the hall to her left. "In the kitchen closet. Take what you need."

He started down that way and located the closet taking a few scoops and tossing them into a paper bag be brought with him.

Spike made his way back through to leave, but stopped after passing her a few feet. Annali made no move. He sighed in defeat and turned back to see her. He cleared a little bit of space from the broken things and slid down beside her. She didn't look at him, but handed the bottle over to him, which he obliged. No glasses, but it seemed like that didn't even matter to her.

"So when did you get back?" he asked.

Annali still didn't look at him. She stared straight into the wall in front of her. "After I identified the body, so only a few hours ago."

He took a drink and examined the bottle. The bourdon was made back in the year 2015. The seal looked to be just broken recently, making it a fifty-six years-old. This meant that Annali had been saving this for something. He handed back the bottle and she took another drink. "How'd that go?"

She shrugged and titled her head back, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "It went. Saw some scars that I didn't want to see, our matching tattoos from the service, and the fucking bullet hole. " She sighed, trying to keep her composure. "I was there when he died, I don't know why they made me see his body."

Spike couldn't decide if he was proud of her managing to keep her cool or sad that she refused to let herself emote. He had been in her shoes before, so he understood, but this was different. He had someone then, she had no one now.

"You haven't slept at all or eaten anything?"

She shook her head. "You thought my training and the things I have done would fuck me up, but this here takes the cake." She polished off the bottle and threw it against the wall, watching it break. "That's it now. This is what it's like to lose hope afterall," she slurred loudly. "We both found that bottle the night we enlisted and decided to save it until we finished our service. I kept on saving it until I found him. Well, I fucking found him! Might as well start drinking."

Spike said nothing. This wasn't his problem and it won't be, but there was some part of him saying he couldn't leave her alone. He sat and said nothing. He was there another good hour while she fought with herself between grieving and the forced stoicism. Annali would come down from it eventually, this he knew.

When she did, she fell hard completely collapsing in a heap opposite of him. Spike wasn't a man of affection to strangers, but he knew better than to let anyone who passed out from too much booze to fall asleep on their stomach. He grabbed a throw pillow and blanket from the couch and propped her up on her side, her arm just under her head so she wouldn't choke if she were to vomit. He located her stereo system and turned off the depressing song. Her dog came trotting back in and layed down next to his owner. That mutt was her guard.

She was a relic, he decided. She was a piece of Earth that was once forgotten. His partner said that nothing good comes that planet anymore, but this was different. As much as the other societies mocked people for remaining on that ruined planet, there was something to be admired about the kind of hope and perseverance they had to keep on living. They were people who would lose everything with one rock shower, but it never stopped them from living. Annali could be an exception, but something told him that she would keep going. She would find a new reason.

Spike left shortly after and entered the Bebop just as Jet started the engines. He tossed the bag of food to Jet when he entered the control deck, "Where are we headed to?"

Jet caught it and then continued to type in coordinates and steer the vessel out of the docks. "Mars. A few bounties dropped with better price tags. I'd say after last night we had our fill of the clearance bin."

"Fair enough. Let's get out of here."

 _I left that road so far behind._

 _ **So that was my first ever Bebop fic. Love it, hate it, let me know. I have a few ideas of adding two more parts, but I just want to see what happens with this. I left one loose end to see if you would want more, okay? I am heavily influenced by music when I write which is why there are so many earth references here. In the mean time, follow along. Follow me on the twitter ClassyAmie which has a link to my blog summaryoflifeinagif. Until next time, stay classy.**_


	7. Part II: Chapter 7 Always On

He was aware of a few things when it was coming to an end. He was conscious about the air going in and out of his lungs and the breeze coming from around the wreckage and stinging his exposed wounds. Not much else that he could see, but he could feel everything around him. Why now? Why feel everything now? Emotionally he was long gone, but his body was making him stick around. Why this?

Spike was ready to surrender and fall into a dream he thought he was in before. He could feel himself go in and out of the beyond, like a tease and he was aggravated. Why can't he just die? Why must it be so damn hard to just _stop._

Spike fell in and out of blackness and nothing only to feel himself be moved. Voices cut in and out. Feminine and then another one was gargled radio signals.

 _Holy shit, you did it._

 _You didn't see anything._

Spike felt a pull and tug at his wounds, stopping the stinging breeze. Another breeze brushed him as he felt a different and powerful swoosh of air around him. The pulling and tugging continued, this time he was upright.

It couldn't have been Jet, too short, but not Faye, too strong.

 _We need to get him to the med bay._

 _What the hell did you bring aboard?_

 _I'll explain later._

Spike fell back into the world, but was too weak to acknowledge it. He could see through his eyelids that the lighting was different, too bright. He was horizontal again, but not upon uneven steps. _They got me again,_ he thought. The Dragons were still not through with him after all.

 _What the hell happened to him?_

 _Who the hell is he?_

There were more voices, but nothing he could recognize. One sounded vaguely familiar, but nothing worth noting from the past nightmare. There were new hands prodding him, stings and pinches on parts of him close to what was supposed to do him in. Then he felt something warm travel up his arm and then there was a welcoming darkness.

Before he succumbed to what he figured was the end, he heard another voice, older and angry:

 _Put on the restraints._

/ / /

Nights on Tharsis after their fall rains turned the streets into bone chilling freeze. The wind of course didn't help. Climate control was for suckers. Why control how cold a city was when the vibe from the city could send a chill through anyone's spine?

Annali understood why they were there. The bounties were plentiful and made up for the time the crew needed to kill before the next big head. There was something else going down across the city that didn't sit with her well. Her crew always said she never left the frontline and she was making the steps to become a normal civie, but something didn't feel right since she dropped off her small fry. The precinct she stopped by was busier than normal. There were whispers and an air of uncertainty. Since the sun went down she was on high alert.

Maybe it was the PTSD, she thought as she walked the streets to the bar. Maybe something was afoot. She sighed, "It's not my fight." A drink, she thought, just one, to chill me out.

She entered through the heavy door only to find a quiet drinking establishment. Strange, she thought. It's usually happy hour now. The bartender, an older man who looked like he had seen things he wished he didn't, looked tense.

Annali grabbed stool and waved him down. "Can a girl get a drink around this busy place," she snarked.

The bartender hastily poured her some whiskey and left for the back room, leaving her alone. Annali shrugged and whispered to herself, "It's none of your business. Just drink, pay, and go home." The nagging feeling of something being up pulled at her thoughts. They were very loud in the silence. Silence was never good. It meant an ambush, it meant someone died, it meant trouble. Annali put her woolongs down on the bar and began/finished her drink in one large gulp.

Just as she got up to leave she heard a loud boom. The bar itself shook following the wave. Annali crouched under the bar ledge and readied her gun. Muscle memory took over from there. She was looking for the assailant, high alert and ready to shoot.

No one was there. The boom came from outside. She ran out the door and saw the cloud of smoke and debris. She ran toward it. A few blocks later she came into view of the building itself with men, covered in dust and coughing through the smoke, some injured, running from the entrance.

She hid around the corner, waiting for her moment to infiltrate. At the moment she wasn't seeing straight. She was back in that desert town and then she was in Tharsis, but her movements were all the same. A second explosion was set off from above and she dodged the debris.

Annali made her wait to the side stairs, unphased by the bodies and blood on the floor. The elevator she took up to investigate the damage still had blood smeared on the walls. Whoever was in there before used it to get somewhere. She hit the floor button that still had fresh blood covering. In her mind, she was after that warlord. It was like a do-over mission and this time she wasn't going to fail. Annali was going to get her squad back.

When the elevator opened and she exited, she was pushed aside by another man in a suit and trenchcoat, frantically pushing the closing door button to escape. He came out of nowhere and she damn near shot him. She would have too.

She heard one single gunshot coming from down the hall to the right. She followed the short echoes and the glass shards on the floor to a series of steps. There were more men in suits and armed, but they were stilled by the scene taking place above them. She hid behind one of the few standing pillars and watched the scene around them unfold.

The glass ceiling above them was gone and what looked like a throne was destroyed. One man, a white haired and evil looking bastard was face down on the floor near the broken throne, eyes still open and frozen in shock. Another looked up then turned to face the steps. The hair looked familiar, but not much else. A showdown had taken place and it was clear who the winner was, but there was no celebration. Those who got to see it unfold watched the champion limp down the steps and made no offer to assist.

Annali deduced that this man wasn't supposed to be there. The green-haired man stopped, lazily looked up and pointed his finger like a pistol at something past all of them.

 _Bang._

Annali snapped back to reality at the sight. She knew this man from long ago. She hadn't heard no hide nor hair since her last trip to Olympia; a painful memory only seconded by the event that plagued her dreams most nights. She remembered his name and that he was a bounty hunter. Annali remembered waking up hungover and the passing memory him sitting next to her while she grieved. It was the closest thing she knew of a comrade since her service days.

She came around from the pillar and bolted through the gawking barricade of suits. None of them made a move toward her and most ran away shortly after catching sight of what they correctly assumed was a bounty hunter.

"Holy shit, you did it," she breathed sprinting up the steps to Spike's prone form. She pulled him off the steps, assessing the damage. It was amazing that he was still breathing, but he wouldn't be for long. The man lost so much blood, but it wasn't anything that could have been fixed. Annali looked around and knew that she couldn't just take him anywhere. This was syndicate turn and Spike had destroyed it. Even if the crooks could not regroup, Spike would have been implicated and he would still be very much so wanted.

Annali shook that thought away. She had to be more positive. Spike appeared to have taken down one of the most powerful crime syndicates in the sol system. The city would debate his intention and his title as either a heroic bounty hunter, a lawless vigilante, or a terrorist. All Annali saw was a man she owed a favor to, for bringing her brother back to her. The end of that wasn't what she wanted, but he nonetheless gave her a chance to give a proper goodbye and some closure.

She looked down at the few gaping individuals below and pointed her gun to them. "You didn't see anything, you got that?" she threatened.

Annali pulled out her com device and made the call she knew she would get chewed out for.

/ / /

Annali half-carried, half-dragged Spike down to the building entrance. The streets were still empty, but she chose for cover in an unoccupied alley nearby. She waited for their pick up, her monoship, and hoped that her crewmate was prepared to do some immediate first aid.

The blue vessel landed on the opposite end and out came a petite woman dressed in harem pants and a white tank top. Annali could see that the blonde was in shock at what her crewmate was bringing aboard. Both women pulled Spike into the cockpit by his arms and settled him into the back seat.

"Christ Annali, what the hell happened?" she blonde questioned in an exasperated tone.

Annali crawled into the pilot's seat and prepared for lift off. "Not right now, we have to get him to the med bay."

The blonde scoffed, "Yeah, no shit. But I need to know what I am working with here? All I know is that you dropped off a severely injured man on my lap and expect me to fix him up?"

Annali shook her head, "Reya, just keep him alive long enough until we get back on Scorpio."

/ / /

After they landed inside the dock of Scorpio, Reya called for help. It was going to take an extra set of hand to not just get their mystery guest to the med bay across the ship, but to keep him breathing. Annali parked while Reya eased her forced-upon patient down from the ship. Running to meet them was a dark haired, glasses-wearing man. "What the hell did you bring aboard?" he asked curiously.

Annali jumped down the cockpit and pulled Spike's arm over her should to help Reya get him to the med bay. "I'll explain later," was all she managed.

"Ryker is going to be so pissed when he sees what you brought home, you know?" he said.

"I'll deal with him later, Vonn," Annali replied.

Shortly after they reached the med bay, Reya instructed her two crewmates to cut off the clothes. While the bloodied clothes dropped to the floor, Reya prepared syringes and tubes for her patient. "You have to spill the details now, Annali, his life is going to depend on it," Reya commanded.

Vonn looked at his crewmate curious as to what she was going to say.

Annali sighed, whipping the sweat from her face with her arm. "The guy was in the explosion. There must have been some sort of duel and he was the only one who came out of it mostly alive, judging from his leg, arm, and everything else."

Vonn snorted, "Yeah we saw the explosion from the marina. So why was he there?"

"No idea."

Reya began to process of testing the wounds, blood type and potential infections. Vonn began working alongside with the breathing bag seeing that the man in the middle of it all was struggling for air. Reya was pissed at Annali's answer, "That isn't good enough. It doesn't explain why we might have a syndicate member or a rogue cop on board. If you think I'm being pushy you know Ryker will give you hell to pay."

Reya could see that it was a hell of a night for her friend. Judging from the situation and knowing her history, it was part of a PTSD episode combined with a sprint down memory lane. She put two and two together and understood.

Vonn looked over to the counter where the computer monitor was reading off Reya's test results. "Hey we got a universal blood type and no signs of infection."

Reya sighed, relenting. She knew Annali was a universal donor and that the man was at their mercy. She took an oath long ago and she wasn't going to break it because she was mad at her friend and comrade. "You're a lucky bitch," she conceded. "Get ready to do a transfusion, Willis."

Annali nodded and started prepping herself while Vonn got the equipment out.

"We get him cleaned up, stabilize his breathing, and give him some juice, he should be fine," Reya declared while preparing her patient for the work to begin.

Vonn grabbed the nearest chair for Annali to sit while she donated. "At least tell us why we have him here," he insisted.

Annali knew she was trapped. She put herself in this position when she joined the crew a year ago. She kept most things about herself to herself. The only exception was Reya who was working on getting her to sort out the things in her head, _as friends do_. Ryker knew most things, and took her on when she stepped up to fill a vacancy in his crew. Annali disclosed only so much, and it never occurred to her to explain what happened in Olympia to the very detail. The devil is always in the details. Before she could answer an older man hastily entered the med bay, looking angry at the scene in front of him.

Ryker was a patient man, but he was not a man that liked surprises. He was still dressed in his sleep clothes and his peppered hair stuck up in different places accompanied by a five o'clock shadow.

He crossed his arms and sneered, "There better be a damn good explanation from all of you about why there is a stranger that looks like he is on death's door on my ship in the middle of the night after I was woken up by not only a monoship leaving and landing but a breaking news report about a building explosion."

"He isn't on death's door, we're getting him stabilized," Reya corrected while she continued to work.

Vonn added, "And it wasn't us, it was Annali."

Annali glared at him as if to say _thanks a lot asshole._ She looked up to her captain, "It's nothing like what you think."

Ryker stepped closer to his first mate and challenged, "Then tell me what I should think, Willis?"

"Remember what I told you about Olympia, when you let me on?" she murmured.

Ryker nodded in understanding.

"I owe this guy a favor," she confided.

Ryker put his hands on his hips and sighed when he took in the sight of Annali hooked up to the unnamed man in the middle of it all. He recalled a situation like this many years ago, when he was their age. He addressed his crew, "Reya, get him fixed up. Vonn, set course for Earth, someplace temperate and not full of holes." The two agreed and went about their orders. Ryker than addressed his first mate, "And we will all have a talk after we all get some sleep."

Annali thanked him as her captain turned to leave.

Ryker stopped at the doorway and turned to both of the women in the room, "Put on the retraints."

 **And I did it, I am doing it again. It just wouldn't leave me alone. Any and all mistakes are mine.**


	8. Chapter 8 Bad in Each Other

Being alive was painful, at least when one thinks so when they try to leave this plane of existence only to get pulled back. Everything hurt; every touch, every breath, and every movement. Spike was angry too. Despite the grogginess in his head he was aware of his body, and the restraints on his ankles and wrists. He opened his eyes and tried to focus beyond the blurred vision in one, ignoring the dead darkness in the other. Spike knew it wasn't the Bebop, too clean, but not a hospital or Dragon infirmary, too small. Also, no police cuffs where keeping him down. It was a made up series of ripped sheets.

Whoever had him tied down wanted him alive, or else they would have left him on those steps. He was furious. He just wanted to die. He knew he was dead all along so he had to make it real. Why not? His present was gone, his past is where it was supposed to be, but now he wasn't sure.

His vision cleared and he could see in his peripheral; a petite short haired blonde in a tan sweater and patterned leggings was facing away from him, working on something on the counter. He had never seen her before, but if this person was keeping him alive, she was going to pay for putting a halt on the second plan he made in his whole life; it would have to wait until he could kick ass again, though.

She turned around to see that he was awake, looking pleased that he was alive. "Finally decided to wake up, huh?" she said. She grabbed a stethoscope and made her way to him, flipping a leaver to raise his upper half.

Spike glared at her, "Where am I?"

The blonde feigned caring, and continued her observations methodically. "You're aboard The Scorpio. We just entered Earth's atmosphere." She placed the cold object on his chest. "You're a lucky little asshole."

Spike scoffed, "Don't say that."

The blonde, "Well regardless, I took an oath and so did your rescuer in her own way, Mr. Spike."

Spike jerked at the mention of his name from a complete stranger. It pulled on his injuries sending shocks of pain through his limbs and chest. He shifted to avoid it, but found it make it worse.

"Take it easy, Cowboy," she commented as if to say, _I could have told you it would hurt, but you wouldn't listen._ "You have been out for two days and have some nasty muscle and nerve damage. It's one of the positives of having you tied down so you don't try anything to slow your recovery."

Spike coughed as he tried to gain his composure, "Who the hell are you?"

The blonde grabbed a small cup from the counter and leaned over him to assist him in a drink, "The name is Reya, now just a few sips, it will help chill you out."

Spike refused the warm scented drink. While he wanted to die, death by poisoning was for the weak.

Reya rolled her eyes, "I took the Hippocratic Oath, you moron. It's naturopathic."

"Not until you tell me who brought me here."

She sighed and took the drink herself. "It's guys like you that got me to leave the practice, I swear. Too damn stubborn. Do you remember a lady by the name of Annali?"

The memory of that stint in Olympia came back to him; the friendly rivalry and the tragedy that he kept at length.

"Ah, I see you do remember," she commented. "She said she owed you, but I say you actually owe her, big time."

/ / /

36 hours earlier:

The four members of Scorpio gathered in the control room. Ryker called for a meeting to make sense of the recent events. Vonn and Reya stood together acknowledging their actions, both commended for saving a life but also reprimanded for being a potential accomplice to a crime. Ryker didn't stand for that and warned that he would not cover for anyone on his ship. The last comment was indirectly meant for Annali who was looking out through the large windows with Earth in their sight, only half listening to her captain's speech. Reya and Vonn sat down around the glowing map table in the middle, waiting for Annali's response.

"What is the status on our guest, Reya?" Ryker asked.

"Stable and healing. Of course we are going to sedate him a bit so he doesn't reinjure himself and we can find out how he got into the shape he is in now," Reya answered.

Ryker nodded in agreement, "Sounds fair enough. Vonn, where exactly are we heading?"

Vonn replied, "I'm expecting to land in Old Cleveland, on the shoreline. It's populated enough we can regroup, stock up, but hide if necessary."

"Well, I hope we are not hiding from anything," Ryker added. He looked over at Annali who was still looking out into space. "I can tell you're listening, Willis. Might want to join in the conversation before I toss you out. It's a bit hard to talk when one is freezing to death and can't breathe."

Annali turned to the crew and shrugged, "I don't know what to say to you, Captain." Annali continued, the sound of defeat in her tone. "I was finishing up a quick job, and I followed my old instincts."

Their captain sighed, "I thought you were doing better, Annali."

"Yeah, well so was I. It's not like before when the clatter of a frying pan landing on the floor set me off. There was a big boom and it was like I was back on Titan. It didn't register that it was a syndicate hellhole."

"At least this guy Spike blew it up. Those thugs had it comin', it's called kharma, right?" Vonn added.

Reya slapped him up the backside of his head, "Read between the lines! No one can pull that kind of demolition unless they didn't plan on getting out. Something had to have had happen that we don't know about that made him make the decision he did…this was a suicide mission, literally. It's going to add an extra level of our _possible_ implication."

Annali felt the weight of her friend's words. How could she have done this? Why did she get in the way? She should have been in more control and should have left it alone. Now her crew could be in danger and she has the guilt of stopping someone's last moments. The last one she understood more than she would admit.

Ryker dismissed Reya and Vonn, leaving Annali behind for a more personal conversation. Annali turned away from her leader, ashamed at what she had done and not ready to face him.

He leaned back against the side of one of the consoles. "I don't do punishments, but just help me understand, Willis, and we will figure this out."

Annali sighed, "A year ago I found my brother, the one that was MIA and couldn't find for the life of me. Spike found him first and I followed him. Turns out Johnny had a bounty on his head, but under an alias. Whatever happened after our military mission, whoever got him, they must have brainwashed him and he became a hitman for hire. We tracked him down, but someone else managed to get a shot at him and he was gone."

The older man heard this story, but only at the length and detail his first mate allowed. The crew had their own issues, but most were aware of the baggage everyone carried around. Annali was the only one who had yet to split the weight.

"I still think you are insane for taking me on," she lamented.

"I was in your shoes once. Saw a kid who looked like she lost everything after looking for it for so long. Couldn't just let her go on like that. She wasn't looking to be saved, but she was a little blinded by what was supposed to stay behind her," he recited.

Annali scoffed lightly, smirking at the old man's allegory. "You needed a crew member any way."

The captain chuckled, "Not just any crew member. Had to be someone not afraid to get the boots on the ground."

"Nice choice of words."

"I'm just saying that I get why you did what you did, but we have to be prepared. We'll know more when we land and he wakes up, but that will be on you."

Annali agreed.

/ / /

Present Day:

Annali stood in the doorway looking at Spike and trying to put together a plan for conversation.

Plans were fools for though, at least in both their experiences.

She walked in a pulled up a chair next to him. "You awake?" she whispered.

His eyes fluttered open and he looked over to her, a look of confusion mixed with annoyance and grief. "You're a real son of a bitch. Have been since the beginning."

"If you're talking about that incident on Olympia when you blew your chance at some clearance bin bounties, that was when you became a real son of a bitch," she corrected half-heartedly.

Spike turned away from her. The restraints were since removed and he was sedated enough to relax but be able to be cognizant of the world around him.

"What happened, Spike?"

He muttered, "What do you think happened?"

"Well your suicide mission was to end the syndicate. That much we know, but we need to know the why and what we should be expecting?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied quietly. "They're gone now."

"So you have nothing to say as to why I found you a near-death mess?"

Spike turned back to face her, slowly sitting up, "Why the hell were you there to begin with?"

"It's called PTSD. Depending on what sets me off, sometimes I'm back in that desert village. Google it."

"What?"

"Never mind. You'll understand that soon too."

Spike pulled open the borrowed button up shirt to get a better look at his torso and the sterile bandages Reya placed on them. "That's going to leave a scar," he said nonchalantly.

"And you'll probably have phantom pains. Reya has a remedy for that. She practices that holistic stuff."

"No," he whispered. "I want to feel it."

She couldn't believe this guy. She had heard this song and seen this dance in herself and in the military hospital. While she could relate, this was just a pitiful sight and it made her angry. "If this is your way of guilt tripping me for your interrupted psychological break, I will not have it. I didn't know and I thought I was doing the right thing. At least tell me why so I won't try to stop you the next time you go into the fire and flames."

Spike sighed and leaned back into the gurney he had been occupying, "It's a good story. I'll tell you someday just…not right now, okay?"


	9. Chapter 9 Riders on the Storm

In time Spike healed, but was far from total mobility. It would have been sooner, Reya argued, "If the stubborn ass would take the treatments even remotely seriously!"

They eventually moved him to more private accommodations that could only be described as a hippie king's zen room. Spike was comfortable with home remedies, but this was a bit much. God he could use a cigarette, but all of them said no to that.

It left him a lot of time to lay back and think, and sleep. He every time he was pulled into sleep he cursed Reya for whatever she was putting in his food. He didn't dream as much as have nightmares, but he was thankful that no one checked on him during such moments of vulnerability. Spike was bored from thinking about everything but couldn't stop doing such. He admitted to both Annali and Reya that he would rather have a change of scenery and go outside, but both vetoed that stating that the weather outside had turned from temperate to full on snow dump.

He didn't see much of the other guy, Vonn, except in passing. He didn't say much except yes to Reya when she hollered down the hall for whatever witch potion she was forcing upon Spike. Annali stopped by to give him updates on the damage he left behind on Mars. It appeared that no one had listed a suspect and so far he was in the clear.

Spike only nodded at the news, affirming he heard but not much else. It was a botched suicide after all. God, all the thinking he was left to do while he gained more of his mobility back in his leg and arm.

One day he watched the women pass his open door dressed to face the snow. Annali turned back to the threshold, "Anything you can think of we need to get you?"

Spike didn't respond. He wanted cigarettes but that request was in vain. He was left to think, wonder, and dream for endless hours. Spike was getting cagey and wanted out, but there were two problems: Annali wouldn't let a man with nothing left to live for go out, and that he had nowhere to go. The crew wouldn't let him go anywhere. The only place he could go is in his dreams.

/ / /

Spike woke up an hour later to loud music echoing from the halls. "Déjà vu," he grumbled. It was a very old song he only heard in establishments that old folks frequented, otherwise known as the pity penny bounties. He hated it. He actually began to hate music and how it brought up memories, the good and the painful ones. Actually, the line between both was blurring.

Spike slowly got out of the bed, dressed up in the black sweat pants and flannel button up, and made his way out of the room, limping along the way, to the source of the racket. He had yet to have a grand tour of Scorpio. He had only seen the hall from the infirmary, the communal bathroom, and his room. It took two left turns and down some stairs to find the source.

It appeared to come from the hangar that rested in the belly of the ship. A monoship was opened up from the cockpit with the front console gutted and wires feeding out and down to what he presumed was a power source.

Spike found the source of the music and hit the pause button on the keyboard of the open laptop.

"Hey!" a voice called from the cockpit. "Turn that Kenny Loggins back on!" Vonn pulled himself up and out from the console and saw Spike standing below. "Oh hey, man. You're up and about. Finally."

"Had to eventually. You're music is shit man, and I'm tryin' to get some sleep." Spike snarled.

Vonn jumped down from the monoship and hit the play button. "Sorry it woke you up, but it helps keep me focused in order to get this stuff fixed up, in case you didn't hear, we're a snowed in on the harbor. Just have to wait out the storm and we'll be moving again. Until then, I'm going to keep making these mods to this thing's computer." The young man wasn't going to have any of this stranger's attitude. What he was doing was for the betterment of all of them. A monoship is essential for bounty hunting.

Vonn caught himself snapping at their injured guest and shook his head apologetically. "Hey, my bad. Where are my manners? Haven't had a real introduction yet." He held out his hand to Spike, "The name is Vonn."

Spike obliged and returned the gesture.

"Alright. Sorry, I'm just very touchy when it comes to the mods. I have been meaning to update the hardware on this thing, working on a cloaking signal for this ship and Annali's and it has been very time consuming."

"Cloaking? Who're you hiding from?"

Vonn raised his hand in a noncommittal gesture, "Anyone really, except head command here. We had a run in with the space pirates a few months back. Turns out they were infecting everyone with viruses, but at least we didn't get it. Also turns out Reya is a hell of a pilot when she wants to be. Got me thinking about our current stealth systems."

Spike was now curious and walked closer to inspect the hardware feeding into the ship's console, "And this is supposed to help with bounty hunting?"

"Hell yeah. Think about the edge we would have if we can be selective about who could see us?" Vonn was getting excited about explaining his new project. It reminded Spike of Ed and how she would squeal and squirm when she made a breakthrough with her hacking for the Bebop.

"Who would have control over this?" Spike asked.

"Only the pilot on an as needed basis. It does however drain on the battery the longer it is on, like leaving lights on by accident with cars."

"So you're the engineer here?"

"Engineer, occassional pilot and hunter, and resident hacker," Vonn replied proudly. "Been on this ship most of my life, second only to Ryker, so I know Scorpio inside and out. You have met Reya and already know the first mate, although I will apologize for Reya. She is pretty headstrong, but it comes from a place of caring."

"Does 'caring' include putting sedatives in my food?" Spike asked sarcastically.

Vonn smiled, "Ah she got you too. Chill, it's just melatonin, totally natural. She has a medical license, but practices holistic medicine. If it makes you feel better, she does that to everyone, even Ryker."

"Who is Ryker?"

"The captain, duh. Don't worry, you'll meet him, but he has been off the ship for a few days taking care of some business or whatever. He's like an uncle to me. But anyway, just work with Reya and you'll be good as new sooner."

Spike scoffed, "You seem to be a believer."

Vonn smirked and chuckled, "Happy wife, happy life, am I right?"

/ / /

Spike continued his self-guided tour of the place. It was smaller than Bebop, but it wasn't originally built to be a fishing trawler. The common area in the middle of it all was small with a beaten up leather sectional couch, and around it on the second floor catwalk were the doors to what he assumed were the crew's individual quarters. Up another set of steps and down a hall lead to the galley that resembled more of an actual kitchen than something that should have been a traveler's food cubby hole. Hell, it had a dining table and barstools bolted and riveted to the floor. He was already well acquainted with the rest of the small ship.

Still no windows. Rarely has Spike ever wanted to see the outside or be in it, but this place had to have some kind of window, right?

Through another door were wrought iron spiral stairs and up he went, leading him to the bridge.

It was also smaller than the Bebop, but it had the standard glowing map table and two pilot seats looking out to whatever was ahead. All that was ahead were choppy lake waves and falling white snow.

Spike relented to himself, "Yeah, I'm not going outside."

Another voice sounded from behind him, an older one. "At least for a little while. Let what happen on Mars become a thing of the past first."

Spike turned around and faced a much older man, older than Jet but in better shape and not missing any limbs.

The man spoke first, "I see you are making yourself at home here. If you haven't figured out, you're on my deck, my place."

Spike attempted to limp past the man to avoid whatever coming confrontation was. He could see he wasn't welcomed and wasn't going to bother none, at least until his arm was caught.

"We're going to have a talk, cowboy. Sit," he said, gesturing toward one of the pilot seats. The older man sat down opposite of him. "If you haven't figured it out, I'm Ryker. This is Scorpio. As captain, I have a few rules."

"I won't be here long, sir," Spike replied attempting to avoid the conversation. He just wanted out.

"Are you sure about that, son?"

"Don't call me son."

"Well, am I supposed to call you? Spike? What kind of name is that?"

"Mine," Spike growled. Déjà vu.

"Fine, whatever. Just listen and answer my questions and I'll let you do what you have to."

Spike scowled but agreed.

"I understand you took down the Dragons a week ago. Why?"

"They took everything from me."

Ryker softened a bit in understanding. "And you went in literally guns blazing as revenge?"

"What else does it look like? I don't want to talk about this, not right now," Spike replied angrily.

"Easy kid-"

"I'm not a kid either!"

"Alright, relax. I'm just trying to get the message out of you, that's it."

"You seem like you're digging for more, old man."

"I resent that remark, if you can't tell," Ryker retorted.

Spike huffed, "Then get to the bottom line."

Ryker was silent, choosing his words carefully as he could see that this young man in front of him was a volatile creature; everything was risky. Finally, after standing up, he made his offer. "Stay with the crew."

That was not what Spike was expecting. "Are you fucking serious?"

"You got guts. You owe Annali your life and she says she owes you a favor. You're a bounty hunter or aren't you?" Ryker pushed.

"I don't know what I am. I just know that I wasn't alive and now I am."

Ryker crossed his arms and eyed the green-haired cowboy sitting below him. "Whatever happened, it happened. Now you can let that go, or you can let that ruin you forever. If you want to go back to your path of destruction, fine, but not on my ship. If not, you have a place here."

Spike nodded, "Not like I'll be saying goodbye."

Ryker agreed, "Don't have to tell me twice."

"And your reason for allowing me to stay?" Spike inquired.

Ryker smiled down at the cowboy, "You got guts and skills. And anyone who goes against the Dragons is a friend of mine."

 **Let's hope I can keep this going. Any and all mistakes are mine.**


End file.
